


Frailty

by cyanideinsomnia



Category: The Arcana (Visual Novel)
Genre: Anal Play, Anal Sex, Angst and Fluff and Smut, Bad Decisions, Bath Sex, Bottom Valerius (The Arcana), Butt Plugs, Chronic Pain, Drunk Sex, Drunkenness, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, It Gets Worse, Lucio (The Arcana) Is A Little Shit, M/M, Medical Inaccuracies, Minor Violence, No Aftercare, Non-Consensual Drug Use, Porn with Feelings, Red Plague (The Arcana), Self-Esteem Issues, Tags May Change, Top Lucio (The Arcana), bad and naughty goats get wrapped in a towel burrito for their safety, julian caring way too much
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-12
Updated: 2021-02-12
Packaged: 2021-03-18 15:33:45
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,347
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29370870
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cyanideinsomnia/pseuds/cyanideinsomnia
Summary: "Your birthday is coming up, is it not?" The Consul settled on the edge of the bed, a crooked little grin playing at his lips. "I merely wanted to give you your /gift/.""Oh? Ohhh.."
Relationships: Julian Devorak/Lucio (The Arcana), Lucio/Valerius (The Arcana)
Kudos: 29





	Frailty

**Author's Note:**

> the "standards" is in reference to this: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21774247
> 
> (which lmao val "you may have me when you're cured and no sooner" didn't last very long did it)
> 
> no i don't know how medical stuff works, don't @ me
> 
> spoiler: jules does not bone him, jucio is just tagged for the emotional side of things

A long shadow fell across Lucio's face, startling him awake.

There was a humanoid figure standing over his bed, the barest hint of pale skin and fine clothing illuminated by a sliver of moonlight, a glimmer of something shiny clasped in both long, thin hands - glass or metal, he couldn't tell. 

He couldn't see their face, but he could feel their eyes boring into him as he forced himself upright, intense and unwavering from their unknown mission. Given the hour, likely not a mission he wanted them to complete.

"Step any closer and I'll gut you like a fish," Lucio hissed, keeping a wary eye on the stranger as he began to reach for one of the swords pinned to the wall above his bed, mentally calculating how quickly he would be able to swing it before--

"Is that any way to greet an old friend??"

The figure stepped closer, allowing more moonlight to drift across elegant features, and at once he relaxed.

It was Consul Valerius, a bit disheveled as though he'd come straight from his own bed, dressed in nothing but a sheer robe, carrying wine and glasses instead of any kind of weapon, body lightly swaying from some earlier indulgence.

“Oh, it’s you.” He sank back down into bed in relief. “I thought you were an assassin.”

Valerius scoffed, delicately placing the wine and glasses on the nightstand. “Don’t rule me out so soon, Your Excellency - apart from our beloved Countess, I stand to gain the most from your untimely demise.”

“True, but you _hate_ getting your hands dirty. You couldn’t stomach it, watching me die.”

“I could simply smother you.”

He was slowly removing his robe, letting gold and greige slide elegantly from pale skin like a sculptor’s masterpiece coming to life in the stone, and Lucio immediately reached over to let his hand trail along one bare thigh, eliciting a soft shudder and no resistance. 

“Well, if I’ve got a choice in the matter, I demand _these_ to be your murder weapon, and nothing else.” He gently squeezed his thigh. “This or your ass, I’m not picky.”

“Oh, you _would_ be so crude, wouldn’t you?”

He snorted. “Says the man stripping naked in front of my deathbed.”

"Your birthday is coming up, is it not?" The Consul settled on the edge of the bed, a crooked little grin playing at his lips. "I merely wanted to give you your _gift_."

"Oh? _Ohhh_.."

Those lips were brushing against his own, one elegant hand firmly gripping his jaw, the other making quick work of the belt tying his own robe closed, tugging red silk the rest of the way off his body when it fell open, needy and insistent, practically _pawing_ at him. 

There was no doubt as to where this was going, though he was already perfectly enthralled with what he was being given now, his own hands automatically lurching up to hold onto him, pressing hungrily into the kiss with a shudder of relief and a low moan against his lips - it had been so _long_.

"I-I thought you had _standards_ ," Lucio gasped as the lips moved to his throat, hands sliding down his emaciated frame, caressing sallow skin as though nothing had changed.

"If you're only going to question my judgment, I can leave."

"Nn.." He shook his head and grabbed one of those hands to guide it lower down, blood he couldn't spare already settling between his legs, cock almost painfully hard in anticipation of the main event. "If you leave me like this, I really _will_ die."

He tried to ignore how his skin felt tight and sensitive, soft hands and softer lips like knives against him, an all too familiar ache in his bones, body trembling beneath him. His touch was like wildfire, hot and painful, and yet he pressed up into it regardless, just as insistent, smothering agony in burning kisses along his captor’s skin, forcing himself to endure in the hopes that maybe, eventually, pain would give way to the pleasure he knew he was owed.

It wasn't _fair_.

A soft whimper escaped him as Valerius obligingly gripped his cock, beginning to stroke him and quickly faltering as more pathetic little sounds followed against his volition. Oh, he wasn't expecting it to feel quite like that.

The Consul frowned. "Am I hurting you?" 

"No, no-- it's fine." It was excruciating. "I'm fine. Don't stop."

One elegant brow raised.

".. my medicine's worn off, so there might be a _little_ pain. But it's fine, Val. I need this."

For one frightening moment he thought that might be the end of it, his _frailty_ sending him running lest he crumble in his hands like old porcelain. As such he made sure to stare up at him with wide, pleading eyes, the most pathetic expression of _hope_ he could muster on his face. 

Valerius sighed and let go of him in order to reach for the wine, offering him an almost overfilled glass. "Alas, the only remedy I have is this. I fear my resolve may crumble if I must leave you to fetch the stronger stuff, you understand."

In fairness, laudanum wouldn't exactly be conducive to their plans anyway, not unless he wanted to hump his unconscious body. 

Lucio chugged the wine in one gulp before returning the glass, brows furrowed in thought. "Taking a bath might help??"

"What do you mean _might_?"

He shrugged. "It's not exactly easy to relax with the _nanny squad_ hovering around, so I don't know."

A wry little grin stretched his lips.

"You think you can carry me there?" An added flush of heat spread across Valerius' face, eyes quickly running over his naked body and then his own arms and back again with the same befuddled horror. "Don't look at me like that, I think you'd like it. Me at your mercy, lying in your arms like a damsel in distress."

"I believe you've mistaken me for yourself, Lucio." He huffed.

"If our positions were reversed, I’d have already slung you over my shoulder by now."

Valerius snorted. “Ever the gentleman.”

After a moment of deliberation, the ailing Count let out a deep, dramatic sigh and began to ease himself up onto his feet, resting his right hand on the bed to steady himself as the left clumsily grabbed for his night visitor’s own hand, grip a bit less gentle than necessary when he finally caught him.

The pain was no less here, little jolts of agony shooting up through his legs with each step, but he once again ignored it in favor of striding confidently towards the master bath, tugging the other man along with him as if nothing had changed. His instinct was to lean his weight against Valerius’ shoulder, an urge stymied by the fact that he was trailing behind him a bit.

He wasn’t sure if that was good or bad.

***

For the first time in the past year, the scent of luxurious bath salts filled the air instead of the stink of medicinal soaps as Valerius carefully prepared his bath.

Lucio simply lay along one side of the immense room-sized marble tub, watching him, nursing what was left of the wine in one glass haphazardly clutched in a trembling hand, the bottle beside him nearly empty. The warmth of the water could be felt from here, brushing along his skin like its own lover’s caress, skin that ached for more of the real touches.

“I suppose you would want one of _these_?”

Valerius held up a small ball of packed powder for him to inspect, a lukewarm version of his usual disgusted grimace on his face. 

He knew how he felt about bath bombs - but this _was_ meant to be his birthday present. 

“Damn right I do. Drown that sucker.”

The Consul rolled his eyes but smiled as he dropped the ball into the bath. Within moments, the water turned a deep, rich gold, glittering along the surface as if it was made of liquid metal. As his visitor leaned further over the side of the tub, presumably to check the temperature of the water, Lucio caught a glimpse of a similarly golden object within much closer view.

It appeared to be a golden buttplug, nestled nicely in his ass.

This wasn’t as much of a spur of the moment decision as he wanted him to believe.

"Ooh, you _did_ come prepared~" He trailed his fingers along the rim before idly pressing at the base of the plug, grinning as the surrounding cheeks abruptly tensed, a barely repressed shudder in the body attached to them.

"I-I wanted to save you some time on the foreplay, you understand-- _nnf--_ "

Lucio gently tugged back on it, easing it partially out of him before pushing it back inside, maybe a bit less gently, though Valerius didn't seem to mind, immediately pressing back against him with a needy little groan. He tugged it back and pushed it in again, and again, leaning over him to run his teeth along his neck as he continued to fuck him with his own plug, feeling his prey squirming beneath him, trying to rock his hips but kept prisoner by the closeness of their bodies.

"I wonder how long you've been wearing this," He purred against his neck, eliciting another, deeper shudder. "Did you keep it inside you all day? Going about your business in my palace with that constant pressure burning you up, stretching you so nicely-- were you pretending it was me, already balls deep in you?"

Valerius only whimpered, needy and undignified. "Ah-- Lucio--"

"You've been craving me all day, haven't you? I'm surprised I didn't wake up with you already sitting on my dick."

After another few quick and violent thrusts, he moved his hand away from the plug and his body away from Valerius', humming as he got up to begin the slow and careful process of lowering himself into the bath, unable to miss the Consul's look of desperation and abject _betrayal_ as he descended down the steps.

"Foreplay is important, Val," He said simply, easing himself onto a small marble bench at the edge of the tub, a sigh of relief escaping him as the warm water rose up around his aching body. "Though I do appreciate you getting all stretched out for me."

Oh, this _was_ so much better with the touch of the drink in the company of someone he actually liked. He hardly felt any pain at all.

The sound of water sloshing around heralded Valerius' shaky descent into the depths after him, gait kept at a careful saunter instead of the animalistic leap onto his lap he was expecting, his skin flushed bright red, his cock standing at attention almost as beautifully as his own. He reached out and gently ran his fingers along the length as he approached, gently tugging on it to urge him closer.

"If I-- ah-- may make one small request," He managed, carefully swinging one elegant leg up and over Lucio's thighs in order to straddle him, not quite sitting in his lap but close enough. "Please tell me when you're close to release - I _am_ putting myself at risk by doing this, you know."

He may not have been paying as much attention to that as he should, focused on slowly unraveling the other man's braid, until a cascade of slightly wavy dark and golden hair surrounded him, enthralled with how the ends floated across the water like elegant tendrils, the lantern lighting the bath haloing his face. It was breathtaking, like gazing at some kind of bewitching sea temptress.

"Did you hear me?"

"Mm? Oh, yeah." Lucio leaned forward to press a kiss to flushed skin, his golden hand resting against his ass, the other tangled in luminous locks. "God, you're beautiful. Almost as beautiful as me. Why don't I have any portraits of you?"

One elegant brow raised. “Because you insist I send you ones of me in the nude.”

“I’ve sent _you_ nudes.”

“Yes, and unlike you, I have the discretion to put them somewhere out of the public eye. I don’t trust you wouldn’t hang one of mine in the main hall.”

“Remind me to look for the _wank shrine_ next time I’m in your estate,” He leaned up to kiss him again, fingers sliding in between his cheeks, distracting him from the beginning of indignant spluttering by pressing at the base of the golden plug again, gently toying with it. “You want to take this out yourself, or shall I?”

The Consul bit his lip, at once more relaxed, arching back into the teasing with a contented little sigh. “.. if you promise to be _gentle_ , you may have the honor.”

He leaned forward, right hand moving down to grip one cheek, pulling it aside and holding him in place as his golden fingers slid underneath the edge of the plug, grasping the base and carefully, slowly working it out of him, further and further until he heard a little _pop_ and Valerius nearly collapsed on top of him with low moan.

It was about the length of his hand and half the girth, solid gold, nice and weighty in his palm. He tried to remember if he was the one that gave him this. Of _course_ he did.

After setting it on the side of the tub, he turned his attention back to the ass held captive by his right hand, left hand coming down to join it once more, dipping into the freshly vacated entrance with two fingers and massaging him as he spread him further open, keeping hold of him as he lined up his cock, the tip gliding almost effortlessly into him, eliciting another deep, full body shudder. 

“Mm.. you’re so much _warmer_ than the last time..” 

“That’s probably the fever.”

He let go to allow Valerius to pick up where he left off, slowly sinking down onto the shaft until it was fully hilted inside him, echoing his groan of satisfaction as he dug his fingers into his hips, his face buried in his chest.

It felt so good. It felt like a puzzle reuniting with a missing piece. He was complete.

“Fuck, I missed this. I missed this so _bad_ .” Lucio gasped against his chest, pressing more burning kisses to all of the skin he could reach, desperately smothering him in them, entreating him to a mere fraction of the overwhelming joy he felt. “You don’t know how torturous it’s been for me, Val-- not even knowing if I’m _capable_ of doing this anymore. You’re a goddamn lifesaver, you know that, right?”

He felt elegant fingers at his jaw, tipping his head up to face him again, something between pride and concern on reserved features. “Are you in any pain??”

“No. It’s gone. You feel too good.” 

“Hm, perhaps the key to the cure lies within my ass,” Valerius mused, almost _serious_ about it, and Lucio couldn’t help but laugh. “Before you rush to tell your doctor, I am joking, of course.”

He grinned. “I dunno, we might need a few more _treatments_ to make sure.”

Leaning back against the wall of the tub, he settled his hands more comfortably on sharp hip bones, shifting his own hips in order to get into position. A sudden wave of vertigo hit him, likely a mix of the heady rush of the wine and the rush of blood to his other head, threatening to knock him off the bench as he vaguely attempted to right himself.

“Here-- I’ll let _you_ do the work this time.” He gently smacked the shapely ass in his grip with his right hand, eliciting an undignified little squeak. “My cock is yours to command.”

“Oh, how generous of you.”

The Consul arched forward to rest his hands on the edge of the tub, spreading his weight more evenly between them and his knees pressing into the bench, slowly lifting his hips until the cock was barely inside him before sliding back down, cushioned by the water, starting to ride him at a calm and measured pace, much slower than he would have gone for himself but oh, it felt so _good_.

A breath in the vague form of ‘fuck’ escaped him, almost unconsciously, his head gradually lolling back against the edge of the tub, eyes falling shut in something like bliss, only loosely keeping hold of Valerius’ hips as they continued to roll and grind against him, gently moving his body with them, the warmth of pleasure almost overwhelming with the warmth of the water, pulling him further down into the abyss.

He didn’t realize he’d begun to drift off until he felt a brush of lips against his own again, harder and more insistent than the hips, an urgent growl when they parted: “Stay with me, Lucio. I did not come here to fuck you into the grave.”

“M’not going anywhere, I swear,” Lucio mumbled, leaning up to catch the lips again as he forced his eyes to open. “You have to admit, that would be a more fitting headstone.”

“I don’t _want_ to be your cause of death. I cannot abide it.” 

His tone was deadly serious, movements faltering for a moment. 

“ _Relax._ I’m fine.”

Before the other man could be tempted to dismount, Lucio shifted to more forcibly grip his hips, starting to buck his own at a more haphazard pace, bouncing him on his thighs. 

He wasn’t sure how long he could maintain it on his own, but it definitely sent Valerius the message, something like a whimper or a sob escaping him before he obligingly began to ride him that much harder, allowing him to shift his grip to his back, his ass, digging his fingers into soft skin and his lips against softer lips, skin crushed to skin, bodies against bodies, intertwined as one.

His heels dug into the tub floor, grounding him as he arched further forward, tightly gripping both ass cheeks before redoubling his own efforts, almost slamming into him - not as powerful as he once was but it seemed to make no difference, that elegant voice was practically _singing_ his pleasure with each rough bounce, thighs quivering in his grasp. 

“Ah-- L-Lucio-- there’s--” 

Distantly he could hear him struggling to say something when their lips briefly parted, the beginning of words quickly driven into helpless gasps and groans by each thrust and swallowed up by each kiss, trying to pull away from him to keep talking regardless. It was both annoying and endearing.

“I-- I need-- Lucio-- I need to tell you--”

“It can wait.” He growled against his lips, trapping them again and shoving him down until he was balls-deep inside him again, keeping him there, grinding more than thrusting. 

Valerius whimpered but didn’t try again, holding onto him and pressing desperately into the kiss, letting him shove his tongue inside his mouth as roughly as his cock into his body, the taste of wine somehow so much sweeter stolen from his lips, almost as intoxicating as how much he wanted this, wanted _him_.

He wanted him. And for a brief moment, he felt as though he was worth wanting again. Worth _something_ , after so long trapped in his bed feeling worthless.

It was as if nothing had changed and he didn’t want it to stop.

A rush of searing heat swept through his weakened body, a body that had almost forgotten what this kind of pleasure felt like, nearly losing his grip on Valerius’ ass and instinctively clenching down on it twice as tight to keep him close as he rode it out, the intoxicating warmth around him growing warmer, filling him with his cum. 

Distantly he was aware he was supposed to say something, but he couldn’t for the life of him remember what that was, especially not now.

The cheeks in his grip abruptly tensed, his only warning before a sudden blinding pain burst across his face, his head smacking into the edge of the tub and lolling back against marble while he was struggling to register what just happened, the world spinning and fading out for a brief moment, just long enough to wonder if he was going to pass out.

When it came back into focus, the weight in his lap was gone and he could see Valerius was furiously scrubbing at his own ass, thrashing around in the water as if he’d been wounded, his cock still hard but clearly in no position to tend to it.

Without thinking Lucio began to reach for it with his right hand. “Let me just finish you off--”

“ _Don’t you dare touch me, you disease-riddled bastard!_ ” The Consul shrieked, slapping the hand away, eyes wild and angry. 

It felt like another slap to the face, twice as ruthless, keeping him painfully off-balance, the wound torn in his pride compounded by how he was staring down at him like some kind of filthy insect that had made the mistake of crawling in his bed. If the moment hadn’t been broken before, it was definitely shattered now.

“Idiot! _Leper!_ What the hell do you think you’re doing?! You were supposed to WARN ME when you were on the edge of release, not-- not fill me with your _pestilence!_ ”

He struggled to come up with some kind of excuse, a biting repartee, _something_ \- but could only find the truth.

“.. I didn’t want to let you go.” 

This apparently was not what Valerius wanted to hear, reeling back from him. “So you did that _deliberately_ ? You _intend_ for me to follow you to an early grave??”

“No-- no, Val, it’s not like that, please--”

“I don’t want to hear your _excuses_ , vermin!”

Valerius was already heading for the marble steps, cutting an angry swath through the water that carried into an indignant stomp back onto dry land, his hair clinging to his naked body in wild, soaking wet tendrils, his sea temptress now more of a vengeful ocean goddess.

“Listen-- I swear, I wasn’t--” Lucio staggered to his feet and made his own brisk way to the steps, his weight buoyed by the water, allowing him to forget his limitations. 

The moment he began to emerge from the water, however, that weight and all of the pain he’d forgotten about during their rendezvous dropped onto his frail body like a heavy stone, his legs buckling under the strain, sending him toppling naked onto the steps with a startled wheeze.

In a fit of desperation he tried again, attempting to push himself up onto his hands and knees - but the muscles in his legs seized up and his arms gave way just as easily, the frightening realization that he wouldn’t be able to move settling over him right behind another wave of burning agony. 

He was stuck.

Ahead of him he could see Valerius had stopped by the door, momentarily distracted from his rage by his predicament.

“Val, help me,” He began, shakily reaching for him with his left hand. “Help, please, I can’t get up. My legs won’t work. You gotta help me up. No one else is awake--”

The other man was staring down at him in abject horror, as though he was dying in front of him.

“Val, _please_ \-- you can’t just leave me like this--”

But he did. He swiftly vanished out of sight.

“Don’t do this to me! Please! Come back!”

Any further attempts to call for him were quickly smothered in a heavy coughing fit, blood mixed with water across the floor in front of him, a deep nauseating red atop translucent gold. Valerius definitely wouldn’t come back now, not with another, louder reminder of his _condition_.

He briefly considered starting to crawl back to his bedroom, dragging himself there using the strength of his left arm - but he knew the rest of him would give out somewhere in the middle, leaving him naked and vulnerable in the hallway. At least one expected someone to be naked and vulnerable in the bath.

There was no telling when his legs would work again. Given how much _activity_ he’d just done, it could be a very long time. 

All he could do was lie here and wait for someone, anyone, to come find him.

The idea of being stuck here all night, naked and alone, ripped his pride further open, tears welling up in his eyes, trying to smother it by burying his face in his arms, a little sob escaping him against his volition. The brief warmth of afterglow was long gone, leaving him cold and sick, shaking and wheezing.

He didn’t deserve this. They should have just fucked in his bed, where at least if he lost control of his body the bastard would still be able to make something of it.

“Happy fucking birthday to me,” Lucio muttered, and waited for sleep or death to take him.

***

"Sir? Sir--?!"

He awoke to a sudden overwhelming cacophony of pounding feet and worried voices, nearly drowned out by the screaming of every muscle in his body, the pain from last night _more_ than present now that he'd had time to stew in it. 

His head was pounding, radiating from the cheek outwards, trying to compete with the agony pulsing through the rest of him, and he wondered if it was broken. His bones were filled with molten glass and chained tightly together, threatening to snap under the strain. His skin was too tight, thin and dry and brittle, almost sure those bones would burst out of it if he dared to move or even breathe. 

The very _idea_ of moving like this brought another wave of tears to his eyes, for the moment still buried in his arms, out of sight.

"Your Excellency, are you alright?!" 

“Is he--”

Hands were on him, grabbing at his naked, aching flesh and vigorously shaking him, obviously not realizing he was already awake until the motion startled a low sob out of him. 

"Someone! Quickly! Fetch Dr. Devorak! Tell him it's an emergency!"

'No it's not,' He wanted to say, but it came out as a guttural moan of pain that loosely resembled the word "no" as he instinctively twisted in their grasp, struggling against the hands and trying to shove the blurs of human forms away from him, trying to get free, barely noticing burning tears cascading down his face.

He didn't want Jules to see him like this. He didn't want that rejection on top of Valerius', that _judgment_.

"Sir-- sir, please calm down--"

Distantly he felt his body hit the steps again, slipping out of gloved hands just as they attempted to _move_ him, aiming to lift him up. He tried to jerk away from the next attempt, easily captured in a rougher grip, his desperate thrashing smothered in what felt like a towel wrapped tightly around his aching body, immobilizing him all over again. He fought against that as well, a helpless little whimper escaping his throat before he could stop it.

"Your Excellency, _please--_ "

"What? What is it? What seems to be the problem??"

All he could manage was another pained whine as another human blur in darker clothing joined the swarm, Julian’s hands joining his attendants’ against his red plush prison. He shoved against those as well, though he was quickly losing the strength to fight, forced to simply express his displeasure in a painful shake of his head.

“We found him collapsed on the step when we came to clean the tub for his morning bath,” Another voice murmured, blessedly, horribly concerned. “I don’t know how long he’s been here -- maybe since last night.”

A head that was swiftly captured as well, holding him still to presumably check him over, make sure he hadn’t hurt himself, completely baring the tears, the bruise, the _weakness_ to him. When he felt a brush of fingers against that sore spot on his cheek where Valerius had struck him, he twisted around to try to bite them, catching only a mouthful of fabric instead of flesh.

“His pain is definitely up, he doesn’t want us touching him.”

“I can see that,” He heard a sigh, and then his doctor’s grip shifted, reaching into the towel for his right arm, heedless of his attempts to pull it back. He was at once convinced he was going to lose it the same as the other one, adding insult to injury. Injury to injury. “Hold still, Lucio. This will help--”

“No--” Instinctively he used the captured hand to shove the nearest part of Julian away he could reach, which seemed to be his face, his nose awkwardly mashed up against his palm. 

“Lucio--” 

Something jabbed into his arm regardless, a sharp flare of pain on top of the raging inferno inside him, and he didn’t bother stifling the resulting cry.

“Yes, I know, I know it hurts,” Julian murmured, gently pushing the arm back in the towel with the rest of his trembling body and pulling it more tightly closed around him, likely intended as some measure of comfort. “You _are_ the one that moved while I was trying to line up your shot, however -- it wasn’t supposed to hurt that much.”

“Wh-what did you put in me?” Lucio weakly croaked.

“It’s just your old friend morphine. You like morphine.”

He shuddered and curled up in the towel, the world slowly beginning to drift back into focus as the wave of agony ebbed down into something closer to normal levels, still too high, stiff and painful as he felt the gentle hands shift their grip again. By now the attendants had moved away, leaving him with Jules.

“Can you walk?” And when he shook his head, “Can you stand?”

After a moment he shook his head again.

“Oh, you’re going to hate this.” 

Before he could question this, he was suddenly lying on his back, long arms wrapped around his legs and his shoulders in something of a bridal carry, towel and all, body uncomfortably lurching upward as Julian got to his feet. Immediately he attempted to struggle again, squirming in his arms and shoving at his chest - his grip quickly shifting to a desperate cling when he felt his support falter, burying his face into his doctor’s neck.

He was right. He hated this. His pride was still too wounded to accept being carried around like a child. But he had no choice. “Don’t you dare drop me, Devorak.”

“I won’t, I promise.” He hated that warm, _pitying_ tone in his voice more.

***

Lucio sat in his bed, numbly sipping at a goblet of water clutched in one trembling hand. Doctor’s orders, of course.

The morphine had dampened the pain as it should - at the cost of feeling like he’d been hollowed out and left empty, cold and numb and _distant_ , almost as though he was a ghost. The towel had been switched out for the equally negligible warmth of another red sleep robe, no longer naked but still very much vulnerable, body trembling beneath the covers. 

His doctor and the attendants were on all sides, surrounding the bed, making him feel more like a cornered fox than a protected Count.

“Feeling a little better?” 

He merely scowled at Julian and took another sip.

Julian sighed, sitting down next to him on the bed. He hadn’t the strength to push him off it. “Do you want to tell me what happened last night?”

“No.” But he had a feeling someone was going to force a confession anyway.

“Last I saw you were sleeping like the-- er, a log,” His doctor continued. “And from experience, you generally don’t sleepwalk. So how did you get to be on the steps in the bath? You want me to believe someone came into your room while you slept and just put you there??”

A part of him wanted to go with that story. Foiling an attempted kidnapping.

Instead he just grunted and finished off his water, not looking at Julian. “I woke up in pain and drew myself a bath to relax. Then I fell down. What more do you want from me, Jules?”

“We found an empty wine bottle and two glasses.” An attendant added.

“I wanted to be _really_ relaxed.”

“And a buttplug.”

Ah, that was right, Valerius wouldn’t have been able to take it with him in his haste to abandon him in the bath. “Yeah, and? I’m allowed to live a little.”

“Neither of those things are good for you in your current condition.” Julian muttered, shaking his head. “So you were alone the whole time? No one was there with you?”

Just tell them.

“Yes.” Lucio snapped. “I _am_ capable of doing things on my own, sometimes.”

He hated how all gathered immediately looked at each other in a knowing sort of way, as if they were all saying ‘who’s going to tell him he’s wrong’ - though thankfully no one spoke this thought aloud. 

“And this--? This is where you hit the steps first, I assume?” 

One long hand was against his bruised cheek again, unintentionally - or perhaps intentionally - fitting his palm to where Valerius’ once was. He immediately hissed and pulled away, shoving his own hand over it to hide it from sight. There was no telling what that looked like now.

“.. though it looks a lot like-- are you absolutely sure there was no one else--”

“Yes! I was alone! Fuck!”

He wasn’t sure why he was drawn to cover for Valerius, given how he’d abandoned him. The only reason the Consul would ever do the same is to protect his own hide, even as the instigated instead of the instigator. If there was a way he wouldn’t be incriminated by something like this he would sell him out in a heartbeat.

He _should_ throw him to the wolves - after all, it wasn’t _his_ reputation that would be besmirched, he wasn’t the one that woke up in the middle of the night to fuck a sick, dying man and then couldn’t handle the consequences.

At this point he supposed it was sheer stubbornness. Dedication to a charade.

After a long moment, Julian sighed again, resigned and unconvinced but clearly knowing when to concede defeat. “You shouldn’t be unsupervised in the bath. You could have drowned.”

“But I _didn’t_.” He wasn’t sure he liked this tactic any better.

“But you could have. Especially under the influence.” His doctor’s gaze was grim and disappointed, piercing into his soul. “Did you want these fine folks to come to clean the tub and find it filled with a soup made from your corpse??”

He shuddered at that mental image. His fragile body probably _would_ have fallen apart like stewed meat in the heat of the bath, red and gold and oh, the _smell_.

“So, what, next time you want me to just lay there and suffer in my bed until someone deigns to check on me?” His goblet had been refilled, and he snatched it out of his doctor’s hand with a snarl of annoyance. “You don’t want me to get up, you don’t want me to _relax_ \- what do you want, Jules? Would it make you feel better if I was in a damn coma and _couldn’t_ do anything for myself?”

_Idiot! Leper! Don’t you dare touch me, you disease-riddled bastard!_

“Oh, I know what’ll make your life easier, what if I just fucking drop dead. Is that what you want?”

“That’s not what I meant and you know it.” 

He tried not to notice the knowing looks being passed around by the attendants again - _yes, actually, that is what we want_ \- focusing on Julian’s stupid pitying eyes and regretting it immediately. He could feel the edge of tears in his own again, painful and annoying.

Clearly he still hadn’t recovered from the damage Valerius left.

“Stop _nannying_ me and go find my cure.” Lucio growled, finally, weakly shoving at the taller man beside him with his right hand. He noticed too late there was an ugly purple bruise forming there as well, his body so frail and easy to hurt.

For a brief moment he considered asking him to kiss it and make it better, a thought followed by the idea of curling up in the bastard’s lap and holding him close until he rejected him as well.

He stayed put. 

Julian got up with a frown. “... alright. Of course. Let me know if you need me for anything else.”

‘Stay with me,’ He wanted to say.

“Bring me something better than _water_.” He grunted instead.

“I’m afraid I can’t do that.”

He supposed that would be the answer to both.

As his doctor left the room, he turned his attention back to the attendants, straightening up into some kind of commanding posture as if they hadn’t just seen him at his weakest. To their credit, they at least _pretended_ to be sufficiently alert and submissive.

“Draw the curtains and cancel all of my engagements today. I don't want _anyone_ to step foot in here without a good goddamn reason.”

“What if you have another-- uh, emergency?” 

He rolled his eyes and scowled in the general direction of that comment. “Well _obviously_ that falls under good goddamn reason, doesn’t it? You’ll know if I need you. Now get the hell out.”

There was a mumbled flurry of “yes sir”s and another, less frenetic pounding of footsteps as they filed out of the room without question. They would leave at least one posted by the door, as was customary in the daylight hours.

The last attendant took the half-filled goblet of water from him and set it on the nightstand, reaching for the red curtains hanging from the posters of his bed in order to start drawing them closed around him, the light of the room dimming curtain by curtain until it was almost pitch-dark.

Once he heard that last set of steps head towards the hallway, and the big double doors close behind them, Lucio immediately curled up in his pillows and cried.


End file.
